In The Vein
by Moonsetta
Summary: He had made a mistake. A STUPID mistake! Damian choked out a gasped breath as his mentor reached out towards him. Black gloved fingertips brushed the thin skin on his neck. He knew what was coming
1. Annotated Version

A/N: I'm sorry this took so freaking long but the amount of research I had to do for this... WHEW!

This is pretty much my attempt at a shorter and darker detective story with a connection to DC Comics very origin itself. I always wondered why, when superhero comics were coming out during WWII, Bruce took in a gypsy. I mean, it was WWII and it doesn't raise red flags in your mind? A gypsy? Looking back on it with society's 'modernized' standards today I can't believe they allowed it. Well, I suppose that's untrue. America was pretty good with propaganda and who better to represent those victims than the first Boy Wonder? I guess making him a 'Jew" was too obvious at the time for people who didn't know the war in-depth.

**Warning**: **NOT my normal style, contains sensitive issues surrounding the events that made up WWII and the people involved. If you're going to be offended before reading-please do not begin reading, use the back button instead.**

Batman, Robin, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne Alfred Pennyworth, Huntress, Batgirl (Stephanie Brown), Black Bat, Batwoman, The Question, Man-Bat & The Target are all property of DC Comics.

* * *

Batman had ordered him to chase down a loner that had broken away from the main group of the gang they had been chasing all night, telling him to rush in his pursuit before the man, a man condemned under numerous charges of rape, theft, assault and murder, hurt anyone.

He had failed.

As soon as the Boy Wonder turned a brick alley corner two shots were fired. A man and his young son had been in the wrong place in the wrong time. That was the fact.

Robin had been too slow to stop the bullets from tearing through the man's chest and head as his son stared on in horror and the pursuing hero froze in shock. Of course, that shock had only frozen him for a few milliseconds. Just as the gun had been turned onto the young blonde haired boy, who couldn't have been any older than eight years old, Robin leapt with a vengeance. He made mental promises to push the man into the nearest pits of hell. While pounding the guys face in, he ignored the boy's cries for his father to wake up.

It wasn't until a scream pieced the air that the green fists finally stopped, each one splattered with red blood.

"STOP! PLEASE STOP!"

Swerving around, the hero found the young boy curled up to his father's chest. The man was clearly dead and the boy-

Oh-the boy was covered in splatters of blood, his forearms soaking in the puddle of it on the dead man's chest. That's when the hand clamped around the Boy Wonder's throat and he turned his masked eyes back to the figure he had been beating. The maniac was staring up at him with an evil smirk as the younger attempted to pry the fingers from his throat.

No air!

Dizziness…objects getting blurry…black spots in his already damaged vision…

Where was-?

Robin struggled, trying to pull in any air he could. Desperate, he let up with his hold on the man's choking hands with one of his hands, reached out and-he could hardly believe it worked-POKED (1) the guy in the eye. The man screamed and dropped him, yelling in a high, crazed voice. The boy gulped in gasps of air when he hit the pavement, then got to his feet quickly, growled and aimed for the man's stomach. One smart punch made him double over before another sent his head backwards, crashing onto the pavement.

"Why?"

Robin turned his gasping face back to the blonde kid.

"Why didn't you save my father!"

And the young one let out a wail that woke up the entire street of dark apartments and warehouses. All suddenly sprung to life and people pooled out into the street following the boy's cries, some poking their heads out windows. Robin backed into a building's store-front window and gulped. He SHOULD be using his grapple to get back onto the rooftops but-he couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. The blonde boy was still yelling at him, accusing him.

He should've yelled back and who knows-that might be what he was going to do when he opened his mouth to speak. Before a syllable could leave his lips though, a large hand clamped down onto his shoulder and yanked him up. He caught the sound of a growl through the wind.

"I told you to stop him before he hurt anyone!"

The hand released his shoulder at the wrong moment and Robin hit the rooftop on his side, an already bruised rib yelling at him more-just as his mentor was.

The Boy Wonder interupted his mentor's rage with his own yell,"I made a mistake-it WON'T happen again!"

Silence blanketed the air between them and then...

"He's gone."

His mentor had fallen silent, staring down at the street where people were gathered around the young boy and his dead parent.

Shaking, the Boy Wonder got to his feet and walked over to the edge of the rooftop. His eyes grew wide-the murderer WAS gone! Batman's black gloved hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him along to the next rooftop. The man had turned and opened his mouth only to stop when the Bat-Signal lit up on a nearby cloud.

"Go back to the Bunker." (2)

"Hey I can-"

"BACK TO THE BUNKER!"

And with that, Batman jumped off of the rooftop and into the night.

Ten minutes later, the Boy Wonder, safely in the underground HQ, tore his green mask from his face. Damian Wayne stopped suddenly at the sound of the elevator descending. The boy threw his mask onto a nearby table and quickly rushed into the training ring. He code locked everything and turned off the lights. Thankfully he knew how to fight in pitch darkness.

* * *

The black cowl draped figure tilted its head forward into the streams of light provided to him by the officer standing behind him.

"If I hadn't been in the middle of the Frillian Case I swear I'd be tearing out my own guts right now."

"You and me both," The Dark Knight said, staring at the mass of flesh for only a moment longer before his black gloved hand flashed against the zipper of the white (3) body bag.

Zipping it up wasn't difficult and he'd already seen everything he needed. The brands on the remaining lumps of skin and hair had pointed his thoughts in the right direction.

"That all the time you need?"

Batman could feel the man's rushing wish to turn off the light so everyone could pretend they hadn't seen what they just had. In response, the hero merely brushed his hands through the golden curls by the side of the bag. Even through the glove, he felt the material stick to his ebony fingertips with ease. If he were a more inexperienced hero or officer he would've found a bridge to throw himself off of. It was monsters like the Varhani gang that made eveyone believe that the world wasn't worth saving. To think they had been so close-he himself had been right on the man's trail but...

He was stuck. The bullet that had grazed his ribs and ripped through his cape like wet tissue paper had made him falter a moment long enough to hear the rising voices in the direction he had sent his partner. Civilians on such a chase meant trouble...a lot of potential trouble.

A man responsible for 300 deaths and his gang's activities with those victims were...

A young child's voice broke his thoughts.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE MY FATHER!"

Robin had failed to grab the man's accomplice and he had another murder to tack up to the guy's record.

"Yes. Thank you Officer."

The aging law enforcer clicked off his flashlight and stepped back. That cape and cowl radiated a need for the area to be clear for the being underneath it as he rose to his feet. For this particular officer, he had always been lingering on the edge of the groups of police officers that faced the Dark Knight. He had always believed the 'demon' theory but after the Commissioner had ordered him to help the Legend himself he found himself pulled into a conversation about his family. (4)

The man had asked about a wife, kids and pets.

He hadn't said much at first, but asked why the man wanted to know. The guy, yes guy-because he certainly wasn't a demon, had simply shrugged and voiced the short answer that it was too quiet in the alleyway and he wanted to hear about something else than the discarded scraps of skin he was examining. So, the officer talked about his wife and daughter-basic things really. Before he knew it though, he was talking about how much he was worried about his baby girl. She was 10 (5) and was apparently already a daredevil(6). He was sure that it had begun when they had returned from a grocery shopping trip to find their baby-sitter on the sidewalk in front of their house yelling up at a figure on the roof. Turns out the little girl how found out that if she hopped out of her second-story bedroom window, across to the neighbor's empty window garden box and back and up again-she could get on her house's rooftop. And the girl was obsessed with her three pet rats, letting them crawl into her hair and ride on her shoulders when she threw herself up to the rooftop.

His wife was encouraging it too and now they were arguing and he missed the lunches she normally made for him. Her grilled chicken sandwich was to die for and he hadn't tasted one in over two months. She was going off to spend time with her friends late into the night EVERY night. He was worried about her too. His work focus was wavering and the pay for all the officers were falling a nickel every week since that false-tip they had received about a week ago and taken seriously only to be metaphorically dragged through manure piles of misleads. The citizens' faith in the force was falling faster than their pay.

Sure he had ranted the same problems to his friends numerous times for days but he just kept getting 'I'm Sorry' and 'Things will get better' from everyone.

"You're a good listener," he commented as Batman moved to the edge of the street, reaching for his utility belt.

The Dark Knight turned and flashed him a smile before turning again and disappearing up the side of the building with his grappling line.

It wasn't until the Commissioner was standing beside him that the officer realized that he'd just told Batman his whole life and used the legend as a therapist.

"He got you too didn't he?"

"Yep."

Once again on the rooftops, the single place of comfort for any crime fighter of Gotham, Batman melted into the shadows, casting his eyes side to side to ensure the place was clear. Satisfied that no one was watching, his hand slipped out from under his cape and he held the clump of skin and hair close to his eyes. The brandling (7) was familiar-much too familiar. The case went so far back though that he wasn't sure that the files still existed. Of course, he had faith that Bruce had documented everything about that case. The, for lack of a better term, handful of flesh felt like a strip of leather encircling a mass of sponge-like mush.

The jelly color of the piece of lung stuck in it.

He is standing on a soundless rooftop, holding another person's piece of flesh to his face, using the brand on the purple, brown and black mass to track down a European gang that had come to America so many years ago.

Batman released a breath, and then sealed the flesh mass into a plastic evidence bag.

He could have called the Batmobile back, could have called the new Bat-Jet, could have called his recently re-designed motorcycle but he simply took a deep breath and dropped onto the sidewalk below. Coming to an uncharacteristic decision, he decided to walk to the tunnel outside the city that lead to the Bat-Bunker beneath Wayne Tower and to just use that time to 'think.'

The Varhany...

It had been so long ago that the original Dynamic Duo had come across the gang, when he himself had been only nine (8) years old. A year of crime fighting under his utility belt and he found himself in a place he had dreded.

The walk to the tunnel, once he reached the limits of the city, allowed him to recall eveything and analyze it. If the Varhany Gang were now operating in Gotham and in allience with the Varhani...

He didn't honestly want to think about it, but he had to.

The mission hadn't been a welcome one when the Caped Crusaders had found themselves at the eatern border of Germany shortly after the war. (9)

So the gypsy (10) closed his eyes, stopped in his path, reached out and laid his hand on a nearby tree trunk.

* * *

"Holy ransacked dumpsters Batman, I don't think I've ever seen a city this torn up." (11)

"This war was difficult for more than just America, Robin. Come on, we have orders to patrol the area nearby." (12)

"OK, let's go!"

Batman dropped down into the speeding by Batmobile while Robin flung himself over the speeding vehicle, just in time to land on his motorcycle. Sure, he was only nine, but after his first mission as the Boy Wonder, he had pointed out to his mentor that driving was probably one of the most important skills that he would need to learn ASAP.

The Dark Knight had agreed, better to get it out of the way.

So imagine the little boy's surprise when he received a small remote control for his ninth birthday. He had looked at it with the most obvious face of confusion until Bruce had led him down into the Batcave and told him to push the remote control's single green button. Lights flashed on, gears shifted and the brightest red motorcycle rose on a large platform before his eyes, the light yellow R symbol of his own shining brighter along the sides and front of the vehicle.

"Happy Birthday, Robin," his mentor whispered before the young boy whooped out loud and sped towards the shining vehicle.

Back on their mission, they had come upon a forked road, double checked their communicators and rode off in different directions.

Along his own trail, Batman found himself thinking back to the conversation he had had with an old friend named Charles Till (13), one of the assistants to the great scientist Albert Einstein (14) himself, and low and behold-Batman and Robin were in Germany. The concentration camps found throughout the territories had been horrible enough and the citizens were starting clean-up of all the bodies. He had hoped to leave his boy home but with rumors of the Vahani Gang looking for a hotspot in Gotham City, he found that there wouldn't be much difference in the two investigations.

But he didn't want to think about the Vahani Gang right now. Didn't want to think about them and what they did to children.

He made a physical note in the Batmobile's mini-computer to send Robin to that convention in New York City with Superman. The Kryptonian had asked both of them to come along but with that Gang so close the Dark Knight didn't want to take the chance.

It was about 15 minutes later that Batman's communicator rang out and, delving into the mind of a worried parent more than a teacher, he snatched it up quickly.

"Robin, what's wrong?"

"I found something."

"Describe it."

"I'm not very close, but I can see a few buildings. There's a few made of bricks, some of wood, I can make out what appear to be metal grates lying over holes in the ground and there're about two dozen green army tents set up in front of a barbed wire fence." (15)

"It has to be one of the camps," Bruce thought with dread, but if the American troops were already there it should be safe for the boy. (16)

Still though, "Get closer to observe them, but wait until I arrive before you do anything else."

"Got it Boss!"

* * *

Robin found himself hiding among a tangle of vines up in a tree. He couldn't understand why the vines were healthy and green yet the leaves of the trees were all on the ground and black as coal. The bark of all the trees was even black and crumbling away easily (17). Getting any closer without being noticed would be near impossible. Despite his connection to the victims of the Concentration Camps, (18) he found being in the country not as eerie as he had first believed it would be. He had seen a few pictures, but the Dynamic Duo were just scouting the back woods so Robin didn't feel uneasy about visiting. Maybe it was because he was child.

He didn't know.

The child was simply tired of analyzing the finer points of the Second World War.

Bruce had told him the first-hand experience with the scraps of the war would help him in the future.

"How?" he had asked.

And the answer he had received was, "Because if you can understand the struggle, greed and chaos that war brings today than you can help prevent it in the future."

Dick honestly didn't think he would be such an important figurehead in the future (19) but after what he HAD seen he was sure that he didn't want anything like this to happen again. To ANY country.

Despite the leaves, despite the crackly dead wood and a steady wind to amplify sound, he never felt or heard any warning about the man some 30 yards away. He didn't hear the man's four legged companion either that made one simple leap, and sank its teeth into the back of his neck through the collar of his cape.

He couldn't breathe, the bat-noculars (20) fell from his hands and the vines beneath him snapped. Dry cracked branches scratched at the skin on his legs and arms (21) as he plummeted down onto the black leaves on the forest floor. There was a shot, Robin whimpered and black spots appeared before his eyes. He was passing out.

But not before he heard the man's voice:

"Ole Bo can smell the blood of a Gypsy from five miles away!" (22)

A laugh the Joker would have been proud of and then all was strangely not black, but a hue of the ugliest yellowish brown he had ever seen.

* * *

Robin knew that when he awoke he had some drug running in his veins (23) due to his cloudy head, but he didn't know where he was. When his vision cleared enough, he found himself back on his own two feet, staring at a stained aluminum sliding door and although he had black spots in his vision he could make out a line of sketched letters.

V-r-a-y S-l-en

The first word was simply faded away so there was no hope of figuring out what it was, but dirt and dust had covered the second. So with a hand as dizzy as his head, he reached up and swept away the grime.

Sklizeň

He kept his hand against the word and tried to steady himself given a sudden dizzy spell fell over his mind and passed just as quickly.

Sklizeň

"Come on Robin, remember your language lessons," he murmured under his breath.

Sklizeň was...not German but close... Czech (24) he believed.

He was already well into English, Spanish and Canadian French-learning the languages closest to home. (25)

Sklizeň

He wasn't officially learning that language, but he had taken a glance over a few local books when they had arrived. And if his head wasn't too foggy to recall the correct information...

Sklizeň meant...harvesting.

Ah, he got it! He had probably just unconsciously followed his nose to the smell of food when he'd been too dizzy to be aware. Actually, some food might help reduce the drug's dizzying effects. If only he knew what was in him. His limbs were twitching quickly but non-violently. Maybe food would simply clear his foggy head?

So without hesitation, he reached up and pulled open the sliding metal door. The room was only lit by a simple blue light near the door where there looked to be a bag of something on a table. Maybe it was a bag of potatoes? Looked close enough. Still disoriented, Robin fell against the nearest wall and began making his way to the table.

Something smelt weird, but his mixed up senses couldn't put a name to the odour.

He reached the small table and caught soggy sight of a conviently located lightswitch on the wall behind the table. In just a few seconds, he was leaning over the table and flicking on the switch. Numerous bright white lights above flickered on and the boy stared down at the bag, suddenly confused. The bag was covered in a fading blanket of frost. It had been frozen then. No matter, it was food.

Only when he reached up to wipe away the frost, where it was very thin, did he begin to think differently. There were numerous items inside, shades of purple, brown, red, yellow and black. If these were potatoes they were pretty bad ones. Still, if it was food...

So Robin reached for the end of the bag, trying to clear his foggy mind in the process of also trying not to pass out from the dizziness. Strange, he was dizzy but not nauseous in the least. He pulled the end up and the supposed food was revealed not to be.

He suddenly felt VERY nauseous. These weren't vegetables, he was staring at numerous human lungs!

He stumbled backwards, his foot hit an hazardously abandoned pipe and he spun around. Wall to wall and all over the floor were numerous human bodies, every part of thier skin sliced open and the only things remaining inside were the very bones of the skeletons.(26)

The boy wanted to throw up, but he had nothing in his stomach so he fell to his knees and dry heaved until he heard a familar voice. (27)

"ROBIN! "

A black cloth was near snapped over his shoulders and the Boy Wonder opened his eyes for just a single moment to spot the black Bat symbol against grey before his mentor was lifting him into his arms, rushing out of the room and murmuring any words he could find to comfort the boy.

Oh no…he was shaking…going into shock…

* * *

Snapping out of his memories, Dick Grayson reached up and pulled the black cloth on his shoulders a bit tighter as he neared the end of the tunnel towards the Bat-Bunker. If he had only looked at those books a bit longer he would have known.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he spoke his way through the voice command very quickly and held his breath until the door closed behind him. Only to be met by a familiar and worried face.

"Master Dick?"

Alfred, his face was wearing that long look that Dick could recognize in the pitch darkness of the blackest night.

Something was wrong with Damian then. It was only with that realization that the man was hit by the memory of the night.

Batman reached up, pulled down his cowl and sighed, "Have Damian meet me in the medical lab in five minutes."

He walked away from the elderly butler, running his black gloved hand across his forehead.

"Sir, if I might be permitted to ask…What has happened?"

Letting the old Romany accent melt into his voice Dick spoke quietly, "Varhany Sklizeň."

Alfred's eyes grew slightly before they shrunk again and a neutral calm settled across his face, "Shall I see to any injuries you may have?"

Dick stopped walking away and turned around.

His still innocent blue eyes, despite growing up, spoke volumes before his lips moved, "Take Damian to the medical lab-I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes sir."

They both shared a nod and split up, Alfred bypassing the locks on the training arena they had just installed to retrieve Damian while Dick walked towards the BatComputer, the memories of a war, long gone into the past, still embedded into memory.

* * *

There were no trailing or hidden, as far as he could tell, leads in the criminal underworld for the Varhani or the Varhany. Either way, either gang; Gotham city would need its police force on their highest degree of vigilance. Dick would get the remainder of the "Bat-Clan" together and ask about double patrols and shifts. Oh, and he made a special note that in his next big appearance in high society he should make some publicity for the police force and make a generous donation to the department.

In the meantime, Wayne Enterprises was running smoothly: hiring many new people, making humble but distinguished profits, technology development was up, Gotham was entering a new energy surplus and unemployment was down. So in turn, the Wayne fortune was still growing, as was Dick's own personal finances. He had never expected to be rich, but those old purchased war bonds (28) had really paid off after the years. Of course he had his own personal investments in Wayne Enterprises, some in Lex Corp (to keep an eye on the guy) and numerous other companies. All in all, everything was looking good for his personal life.

Crash!

"You can't keep me here!"

Expect maybe…Damian.

Dick tore his eyes away from the computer screen and started walking to where his little brother-turned-ward was holed up in their admittedly, quite high-tech medical lab. When he arrived there, the boy was up on a medical table, had his arms crossed and was glaring down at the floor while Alfred stood beside him. The elder butler had a look of his own trained on the boy, his hands clasped behind his back with a straight line of a mouth.

"Damian?"

The boy's eyes snapped up and met Dick's with a glare Bruce would have been so proud of.

Dick expected a retort or an insult, not silence or that glare falling into a simple lingering gaze that made him feel more like the boy was simply observing him. The man was able to take one step towards the boy before Alfred had turned to him and promptly walked to his side.

"The Vahani as well?" Alfred asked, his eyes aged but still blazing.

Dick's face fell in despair, "I really wish I could say no Alfred."

"I will summon the others," Alfred said, already guessing his master's plan, "I suggest you look at the boy's neck."

The elder was gone before the 'Bat' could ask, but his eyes did zero in on the boy still staring at him.

"What about your neck?" Dick asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The boy's eyes fell to the floor again, "Nothing, the guy just tried to choke me."

Before the younger could blink, his older brother/guardian was standing in front of him and all because…

He had made a mistake. A STUPID mistake! Damian choked out a gasped breath as his mentor reached out towards him. Black gloved fingertips brushed the thin skin on his neck. He knew what was coming.

Eyes closed, Damian held his breath in a quick gasp as he felt Dick's hand wrap around his throat.

"I told you to stop him before he hurt anyone."

Damian gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out and to resist the urge to reach up and attempt to pull his mentor's hand from his throat. He was the student here though. He had failed tonight and he would endure any punishment given. The punishment being a reflection of the mistake only seemed to be fair. When the boy dared to open his eyes and meet the gaze of his mentor, he had to still his body from shaking. Grayson's eyes were blazing with hatred and harmful intent.

Of course, the Boy Wonder couldn't actually recall Dick EVER punishing him-but he could tell by the look on his teacher's face that there was something dark and personal involved with this gang and his mess up was going to cause them a lot of trouble.

So, Damian was surprised when his partner's hand didn't tighten around his throat. He opened his eyes as the hand released its hold around his neck.

"What was that for?" Damian asked, half curious and half angry.

"Tell me Damian, do you know any Czech?"

The boy titled his head to the side slightly and his face narrowed in such a little-kid gesture that Dick lost his train of thought for a long moment.

"Some. Let me guess. These guys are foreign?"

"No. The Vahani are based right here in Gotham…"

"…But?"

"But their latest affiliates aren't."

"Great," Damian said with an eye roll.

His gesture was interrupted when Dick's hand was around his throat again. Eyes slightly widen, Damian frozen.

"Hey, relax. What do you think I'm going to do-choke you?"

The boy said nothing at all, his eyes trained up at his mentor. At the realization, the elder reached for a small pocket in his belt and withdrew a small mirror before handing it over to the boy. For years he had been learning the advantage of having one in the field: illusions, distractions, reflecting light, emergency rope cutter when broken, small finger-knife, shrunken…etc.

"Upper left side."

Using the mirror with a raised eye brow, Damian's jaw dropped when he noticed a distinctive cut exactly where Dick had mentioned. The only unusual thing was that it wasn't a normal cut…it looked more like a branding. So when that creep was choking him…

Oh.

"What do you know about the Vahani?" Damian asked while placing the mirror back into his mentor's outstretched hand.

Taking back the reflective plane and releasing a breath of irritation Dick spoke lowly, "Not much. Only that they've been active in Gotham for years. They never did much outside typical drug trades but I recently uncovered something that confirms that they're getting ready for something big with the Vahany."

The boy sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, "And who are the Vahany?"

"Do you know what Vahany means in Czech?"

Damian thought through his knowledge of the language, surprisingly…he couldn't remember what it meant.

"Damian?"

Blue eyes snapped up in curiosity and attentiveness almost immediately.

"It means, Organ," Dick said, turning to sit on the edge of the medical bed and stare up at the space he had just been occupying.

Young blue eyes widened slightly before narrowing in suspicion, "Didn't we JUST bust the Peddlers for stealing organs from hospitals and storage warehouses?"

"They like the organs fresh, Damian."

Dick turned to the boy and raised his hand to rest his fingertips against the branding scratch again, "You've been marked for your kidneys and heart."

The boy huffed. Great! Now even the bad guys were marking him as a piece of property! Oh well, the scratch would heal, probably wouldn't even leave a mark.

Wait a minute…

"If the Vahany are foreign… How do you know about them if they've never been in Gotham before?"

The Dark Knight smiled sadly for a moment before beginning, "It was a visit of ours shortly after the war…"

"War? What war?"

Dick smiled, humored, "Think back."

The child did and scowled when he landed on a familiar date.

"World War II?"

"Exactly. We were in Germany at the time and-"

Dick's story was interrupted when Alfred walked back into the medical area, "Sir, the remainder of your team is awaiting you at Police Headquarters." (29)

"Right," Dick said, reaching up to pull his cowl on and rise to his feet.

"Hey, wait a minute! You didn't explain-" Damian protested, but was cut off as well.

"Alfred, make sure Damian gets to bed after his injuries are wrapped."

"Yes sir."

"GRAYSON!"

"Don't worry Master Damian. I'm certain he will return and fill you in tomorrow morning," Alfred said as he stepped forward to grab a roll of bandages from a silver medical table that he mentally noted to polish later.

When the two had returned back to the penthouse, Damian slid onto the sectional sofa with a copy of Frankenstein (30) and waited.

Some distance behind the chair, Alfred frowned. The scene was too familiar to the aging man and he was suddenly all too aware of his old bones and the lack of elasticity in his skin.

* * *

When Dick stumbled in from his "family" meeting, already hating his 9:00am breakfast meeting that Lucius was metaphorically threatening him with a firing squad to attend in four hours, he expected to return to a sleeping penthouse. The mid floors of Wayne tower were almost always lit up because of over-night workers but the top of Wayne tower had been dark for a good year now since it now housed inhabitants.

He had nothing against the Manor, he had grown up there, but it was still overwhelming to the new Dark Knight. He had never NEEDED that much space-or maybe it was just his gypsy blood; the blood of the traveler was always accustomed to change. So, he was surprised when he stepped out of the elevator and was immediately handed a cup of hot chocolate. Blue eyes flashed up to meet those of Alfred's.

"Alfred? Hm, I thought you'd be in bed."

Alfred sighed sadly, "Forgive me sir; sleep will not come easily to me while my mind is preoccupied by the thoughts of the Vahani back in Gotham."

Dick took a tentative sip of the warm drink, judged it to be a tolerable temperature, and then drank long and slow to gather his thoughts before speaking, "Everyone's on a schedule for the next five weeks."

Alfred's already present frown fell further, "It will take that long to locate them?"

"Given the Vahany will be here as well-yes. They've grown since the war."

A silence stretched between the two, whereupon the younger man took the advantage to take another long drink. He would need a lot of coffee to get through tomorrow-well TODAY actually.

"I believe I could make some progress on the laundry," Alfred said, excusing himself to finish the chore that probably didn't even need to be done.

"By the way, as history would always seem to repeat itself, there's a little boy waiting up tonight."

"I thought Damian went to bed?"

"It's a sad stubbornness that runs in the family, sir."

* * *

"You're supposed to be in bed you know?"

Damian Wayne's blue eyes snapped open at the sound of his guardian's voice but he ensured that he simply turned his head upwards as the man circled around the new sectional they had just bought for the main room to sit next to him.

The strange thing though-was that Damian just stared until Dick raised an eyebrow and prompted with a single word, "Frankenstein?"

The boy tossed the book down onto the cushion beside him, "Not important. What I need to know is what is going on and what we're going to do about it."

The boy stared back at him with his father's eyes, slightly narrowed into some kind of glare that wasn't exactly mean or cruel but prodding nonetheless.

"It's a long story Damian-"

"One you WILL tell me," the boy spat before crossing his arms across his chest in a perfect display of child-like defiance that made the elder blink a few times.

A long drawn out sigh followed, but then Dick began speaking softly yet clearly, "We had been visiting one of Bruce's past friends. The war had kept him in Germany so your father was looking forward to seeing him. I had felt uneasy about the trip at first, but I knew that going with Bruce was better than just sitting back here in Gotham worrying about him…"

* * *

The tale of the entire trip had taken about two hours, give or take ten minutes, to converse to Damian. So, they both found themselves staring down at the book of, "Frankenstein" that Damian had knocked onto the floor around twenty minutes into the tale. The boy now had a cup of hot chocolate in his own hands.

"Do you honestly believe that you could stop a World War?"

Dick frowned, "There's no fair way to answer that."

"True," Damian muttered before switching his gaze from his book to his almost finished drink and speaking again, "I know you have a meeting in three hours and the sun is already beginning to rise."

"Yeah…so?"

"You should be sleeping."

"YOU should have been in bed hours ago."

Even to the proverbial 'naked' ear it appeared that the dusk, evening, night and dawn were particularly sensitive moments for the 'bats'-given the lines of their words and actions were being tripped with the most sincere and careful dedication by one another.

Dick Grayson finally sighed, got to his feet and turned to his latest responsibility, "Come on, off to bed."

They left their cups of hot chocolate on the coffee table before walking off to their respective bedrooms. Coming upon Damian's first though-the boy turned back to his mentor with a curious blue-eyed glance.

"Grayson-you can't hide the truth. You found something else in that room."

* * *

DUN DUN DUN!

Anyways, that's the story. Originally written in 3 parts.

* * *

Here's the long list of references and notes for this story. Careful if you read over them...you might learn something!

(1) This is an allusion or indirect reference to the Bugs Bunny short "HILLBILLY HARE"

(2) This tells you when the story is set in the comic book world

(3) It's common to see a body being taken away in a BLACK body bag, this is true but a WHITE body bag is used in many cases of crime because the white color clashes so easily that it makes evidence easier to spot on the body.

(4) It's true that many characters in relation to the Bat-Family find it easier to talk with Dick Grayson other than Bruce Wayne.

(5) The officer's daughter being 10 years old is so to parallel Damian's age.

(6) The DARDEVIL is a direct reference to the Marvel hero

(7) Branding remember is commonly used for livestock and a symbolical sign of ownership. In this case the mark is on human flesh, which should already give you the hint about what kind of crime the gang is involved in.

(8) Dick Grayson was taken in and trained to be Robin when he was 8. This is cannon and needs to stop being changed. He was made 8 to parallel Bruce's own loss of his parents at the same age.

(9) The war, if you don't know, was World War II.

(10) Dick Grayson is a Romany Gypsy-not to be confused with a Romanian Gypsy.

(11) The original catchphrase use by the first Boy Wonder: Holy (adjective) (noun) Batman!

(12) Keep it clear people, America was proclaimed a good guy ONLY because the country won.

(13) Charles Till is a name I just made up, any persons living with the same name is merely coincidence.

(14) Albert Einstein, despite being German himself, helped America develop the Atomic Bomb which the American troops later dropped on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to help end the war.

(15) I've studied a few layout views of the Flossenbürg Concentration Camp and seen these things in the photos. The concentration camp they're at is not actually Flossenbürg but it is the one I'm basing it on in appearance.

(16) The camp of Flossenbürg was actually taken quite quickly and easily by American Troops on April, 23rd 1945. This was due to the camp shutting down earlier that spring and all the prisoners still able to walk being sent on a death march. Capturing it and securing the camp took very little time and manpower so it was deemed 'safe' near instantly.

(17) The decay from the dead bodies and smoke from the people that were burned greatly affected the surrounding wildlife, destroying all forms of plants and scaring away all of the animals.

(18) Here, it mentions a connection. As (10) stated, Dick is a Romany Gypsy and gypsies were one of the groups that were exterminated. It's possible he even had ancestors or relatives in the camps.

(19) His thought here is set to be the ironic proposal to his more current standing in the comics: Bat-family, police officer, JLA, JSA, World's Finest, Titans, Outsiders, Birds of Prey, Suicide Squad, underworld connections, extra-terrestrials... the list goes on.

(20) Bat-noculars, is a shout out to old 1960's TV series.

(21) The classic Robin suit left Dick's limbs to be scratched up a lot.

(22) Distinguishing people's blood by smell would be extremely difficult, though not theoretically impossible. If this were to happen at this time, it would be more likely to be accomplished by a mythical creature than a normal dog. Really, the dog just found an intruder and the old man is crazy and probably specialized in extermination of Gypsies.

(23) This drug doesn't have an official name in my story but I based it off of a modern sleep-aid medication called Sublinox. I anti-modernized the drug back to what might appear in a Concentration Camp during World War II and the affects it would have on a child. So it's not Sublinox, it's just an earlier version of what it might have been in a large dose.

(24) Czech is from the Czech Republic, which is East of Germany, Southwest of Poland, Northwest of Slovakia and North of Austria.

(25) Given his origin country, I believe it's safe to assume that English was not Dick's first language (of course-this is only assumed) and then the two next most used languages beyond American English would be Spanish from the southern people from Mexico and Canadian French from the north. Now I've taken French "France-French" and got a firsthand look at how different it is from Canadian-French. It's the same for American-English and England-English though you may think they're the same they're NOT. Each country has its own grammar, pronunciation and cultural guidelines that rule language. If you write a paper for a professor in England in American-English, you're near guaranteed to fail the entire course. The same stands for near every other language.

(26) This is just a representation of those that were experimented on in the Concentration Camps but not necessarily an accurate display of what one would have been found.

(27) If you're unfamiliar with dry heaving (surprisingly a lot of people are) it's when your body is trying to throw up when there isn't any food in your stomach. You don't throw up, that's true, but the pain is bad enough you'd wish you were throwing something up every second of the experience.

(28) War bonds worked a lot like other bonds today. They were highly encouraged during World War II and there are many references in the comics to both Bruce and Dick buying them. No doubt the money they got back on them has helped in filling their bank accounts.

(29) The remainder of the "Bat-team" in this issue: Huntress, Batgirl (Stephanie), Black Bat, Batwoman, The Question, Man-Bat & The Target

(30) It's "Frankenstein" only for the irony.

* * *

Note: The views and presentations in this story in no way reflect my own views or opinions of World War II, the Nazi Party, Jews, Germans, Americans, Gypsies, Japanese or any other related parties or ideals connected/involved with the war.

~Moonsetta


	2. Non-Annotated Version

In response to a review I received on this story.

Review by: Gary

Sorry, gave up halfway through. Too hard to follow, and the footnotes annoying.

OK, first of all. If you don't like the story there's 1: a back button and 2: an exit button-I believe you're intelligent enough to know how to use them. Second of all, I think anonymous reviewers are COWARDS. Lastly, you could've just said:

This is hard to read, could you post a non-annotated version without the foot notes?

Seriously-it's not that hard!

* * *

Batman had ordered him to chase down a loner that had broken away from the main group of the gang they had been chasing all night, telling him to rush in his pursuit before the man, a man condemned under numerous charges of rape, theft, assault and murder, hurt anyone.

He had failed.

As soon as the Boy Wonder turned a brick alley corner two shots were fired. A man and his young son had been in the wrong place in the wrong time. That was the fact.

Robin had been too slow to stop the bullets from tearing through the man's chest and head as his son stared on in horror and the pursuing hero froze in shock. Of course, that shock had only frozen him for a few milliseconds. Just as the gun had been turned onto the young blonde haired boy, who couldn't have been any older than eight years old, Robin leapt with a vengeance. He made mental promises to push the man into the nearest pits of hell. While pounding the guys face in, he ignored the boy's cries for his father to wake up.

It wasn't until a scream pieced the air that the green fists finally stopped, each one splattered with red blood.

"STOP! PLEASE STOP!"

Swerving around, the hero found the young boy curled up to his father's chest. The man was clearly dead and the boy-

Oh-the boy was covered in splatters of blood, his forearms soaking in the puddle of it on the dead man's chest. That's when the hand clamped around the Boy Wonder's throat and he turned his masked eyes back to the figure he had been beating. The maniac was staring up at him with an evil smirk as the younger attempted to pry the fingers from his throat.

No air!

Dizziness…objects getting blurry…black spots in his already damaged vision…

Where was-?

Robin struggled, trying to pull in any air he could. Desperate, he let up with his hold on the man's choking hands with one of his hands, reached out and-he could hardly believe it worked-POKED the guy in the eye. The man screamed and dropped him, yelling in a high, crazed voice. The boy gulped in gasps of air when he hit the pavement, then got to his feet quickly, growled and aimed for the man's stomach. One smart punch made him double over before another sent his head backwards, crashing onto the pavement.

"Why?"

Robin turned his gasping face back to the blonde kid.

"Why didn't you save my father!"

And the young one let out a wail that woke up the entire street of dark apartments and warehouses. All suddenly sprung to life and people pooled out into the street following the boy's cries, some poking their heads out windows. Robin backed into a building's store-front window and gulped. He SHOULD be using his grapple to get back onto the rooftops but-he couldn't take his eyes off of the scene. The blonde boy was still yelling at him, accusing him.

He should've yelled back and who knows-that might be what he was going to do when he opened his mouth to speak. Before a syllable could leave his lips though, a large hand clamped down onto his shoulder and yanked him up. He caught the sound of a growl through the wind.

"I told you to stop him before he hurt anyone!"

The hand released his shoulder at the wrong moment and Robin hit the rooftop on his side, an already bruised rib yelling at him more-just as his mentor was.

The Boy Wonder interupted his mentor's rage with his own yell,"I made a mistake-it WON'T happen again!"

Silence blanketed the air between them and then...

"He's gone."

His mentor had fallen silent, staring down at the street where people were gathered around the young boy and his dead parent.

Shaking, the Boy Wonder got to his feet and walked over to the edge of the rooftop. His eyes grew wide-the murderer WAS gone! Batman's black gloved hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him along to the next rooftop. The man had turned and opened his mouth only to stop when the Bat-Signal lit up on a nearby cloud.

"Go back to the Bunker."

"Hey I can-"

"BACK TO THE BUNKER!"

And with that, Batman jumped off of the rooftop and into the night.

Ten minutes later, the Boy Wonder, safely in the underground HQ, tore his green mask from his face. Damian Wayne stopped suddenly at the sound of the elevator descending. The boy threw his mask onto a nearby table and quickly rushed into the training ring. He code locked everything and turned off the lights. Thankfully he knew how to fight in pitch darkness.

* * *

The black cowl draped figure tilted its head forward into the streams of light provided to him by the officer standing behind him.

"If I hadn't been in the middle of the Frillian Case I swear I'd be tearing out my own guts right now."

"You and me both," The Dark Knight said, staring at the mass of flesh for only a moment longer before his black gloved hand flashed against the zipper of the white body bag.

Zipping it up wasn't difficult and he'd already seen everything he needed. The brands on the remaining lumps of skin and hair had pointed his thoughts in the right direction.

"That all the time you need?"

Batman could feel the man's rushing wish to turn off the light so everyone could pretend they hadn't seen what they just had. In response, the hero merely brushed his hands through the golden curls by the side of the bag. Even through the glove, he felt the material stick to his ebony fingertips with ease. If he were a more inexperienced hero or officer he would've found a bridge to throw himself off of. It was monsters like the Varhani gang that made eveyone believe that the world wasn't worth saving. To think they had been so close-he himself had been right on the man's trail but...

He was stuck. The bullet that had grazed his ribs and ripped through his cape like wet tissue paper had made him falter a moment long enough to hear the rising voices in the direction he had sent his partner. Civilians on such a chase meant trouble...a lot of potential trouble.

A man responsible for 300 deaths and his gang's activities with those victims were...

A young child's voice broke his thoughts.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE MY FATHER!"

Robin had failed to grab the man's accomplice and he had another murder to tack up to the guy's record.

"Yes. Thank you Officer."

The aging law enforcer clicked off his flashlight and stepped back. That cape and cowl radiated a need for the area to be clear for the being underneath it as he rose to his feet. For this particular officer, he had always been lingering on the edge of the groups of police officers that faced the Dark Knight. He had always believed the 'demon' theory but after the Commissioner had ordered him to help the Legend himself he found himself pulled into a conversation about his family.

The man had asked about a wife, kids and pets.

He hadn't said much at first, but asked why the man wanted to know. The guy, yes guy-because he certainly wasn't a demon, had simply shrugged and voiced the short answer that it was too quiet in the alleyway and he wanted to hear about something else than the discarded scraps of skin he was examining. So, the officer talked about his wife and daughter-basic things really. Before he knew it though, he was talking about how much he was worried about his baby girl. She was 10 and was apparently already a daredevil. He was sure that it had begun when they had returned from a grocery shopping trip to find their baby-sitter on the sidewalk in front of their house yelling up at a figure on the roof. Turns out the little girl how found out that if she hopped out of her second-story bedroom window, across to the neighbor's empty window garden box and back and up again-she could get on her house's rooftop. And the girl was obsessed with her three pet rats, letting them crawl into her hair and ride on her shoulders when she threw herself up to the rooftop.

His wife was encouraging it too and now they were arguing and he missed the lunches she normally made for him. Her grilled chicken sandwich was to die for and he hadn't tasted one in over two months. She was going off to spend time with her friends late into the night EVERY night. He was worried about her too. His work focus was wavering and the pay for all the officers were falling a nickel every week since that false-tip they had received about a week ago and taken seriously only to be metaphorically dragged through manure piles of misleads. The citizens' faith in the force was falling faster than their pay.

Sure he had ranted the same problems to his friends numerous times for days but he just kept getting 'I'm Sorry' and 'Things will get better' from everyone.

"You're a good listener," he commented as Batman moved to the edge of the street, reaching for his utility belt.

The Dark Knight turned and flashed him a smile before turning again and disappearing up the side of the building with his grappling line.

It wasn't until the Commissioner was standing beside him that the officer realized that he'd just told Batman his whole life and used the legend as a therapist.

"He got you too didn't he?"

"Yep."

Once again on the rooftops, the single place of comfort for any crime fighter of Gotham, Batman melted into the shadows, casting his eyes side to side to ensure the place was clear. Satisfied that no one was watching, his hand slipped out from under his cape and he held the clump of skin and hair close to his eyes. The brandling was familiar-much too familiar. The case went so far back though that he wasn't sure that the files still existed. Of course, he had faith that Bruce had documented everything about that case. The, for lack of a better term, handful of flesh felt like a strip of leather encircling a mass of sponge-like mush.

The jelly color of the piece of lung stuck in it.

He is standing on a soundless rooftop, holding another person's piece of flesh to his face, using the brand on the purple, brown and black mass to track down a European gang that had come to America so many years ago.

Batman released a breath, and then sealed the flesh mass into a plastic evidence bag.

He could have called the Batmobile back, could have called the new Bat-Jet, could have called his recently re-designed motorcycle but he simply took a deep breath and dropped onto the sidewalk below. Coming to an uncharacteristic decision, he decided to walk to the tunnel outside the city that lead to the Bat-Bunker beneath Wayne Tower and to just use that time to 'think.'

The Varhany...

It had been so long ago that the original Dynamic Duo had come across the gang, when he himself had been only nine years old. A year of crime fighting under his utility belt and he found himself in a place he had dreded.

The walk to the tunnel, once he reached the limits of the city, allowed him to recall everything and analyze it. If the Varhany Gang were now operating in Gotham and in allience with the Varhani...

He didn't honestly want to think about it, but he had to.

The mission hadn't been a welcome one when the Caped Crusaders had found themselves at the eatern border of Germany shortly after the war.

So the gypsy closed his eyes, stopped in his path, reached out and laid his hand on a nearby tree trunk.

* * *

"Holy ransacked dumpsters Batman, I don't think I've ever seen a city this torn up."

"This war was difficult for more than just America, Robin. Come on, we have orders to patrol the area nearby."

"OK, let's go!"

Batman dropped down into the speeding by Batmobile while Robin flung himself over the speeding vehicle, just in time to land on his motorcycle. Sure, he was only nine, but after his first mission as the Boy Wonder, he had pointed out to his mentor that driving was probably one of the most important skills that he would need to learn ASAP.

The Dark Knight had agreed, better to get it out of the way.

So imagine the little boy's surprise when he received a small remote control for his ninth birthday. He had looked at it with the most obvious face of confusion until Bruce had led him down into the Batcave and told him to push the remote control's single green button. Lights flashed on, gears shifted and the brightest red motorcycle rose on a large platform before his eyes, the light yellow R symbol of his own shining brighter along the sides and front of the vehicle.

"Happy Birthday, Robin," his mentor whispered before the young boy whooped out loud and sped towards the shining vehicle.

Back on their mission, they had come upon a forked road, double checked their communicators and rode off in different directions.

Along his own trail, Batman found himself thinking back to the conversation he had had with an old friend named Charles Till, one of the assistants to the great scientist Albert Einstein himself, and low and behold-Batman and Robin were in Germany. The concentration camps found throughout the territories had been horrible enough and the citizens were starting clean-up of all the bodies. He had hoped to leave his boy home but with rumors of the Vahani Gang looking for a hotspot in Gotham City, he found that there wouldn't be much difference in the two investigations.

But he didn't want to think about the Vahani Gang right now. Didn't want to think about them and what they did to children.

He made a physical note in the Batmobile's mini-computer to send Robin to that convention in New York City with Superman. The Kryptonian had asked both of them to come along but with that Gang so close the Dark Knight didn't want to take the chance.

It was about 15 minutes later that Batman's communicator rang out and, delving into the mind of a worried parent more than a teacher, he snatched it up quickly.

"Robin, what's wrong?"

"I found something."

"Describe it."

"I'm not very close, but I can see a few buildings. There's a few made of bricks, some of wood, I can make out what appear to be metal grates lying over holes in the ground and there're about two dozen green army tents set up in front of a barbed wire fence."

"It has to be one of the camps," Bruce thought with dread, but if the American troops were already there it should be safe for the boy.

Still though, "Get closer to observe them, but wait until I arrive before you do anything else."

"Got it Boss!"

* * *

Robin found himself hiding among a tangle of vines up in a tree. He couldn't understand why the vines were healthy and green yet the leaves of the trees were all on the ground and black as coal. The bark of all the trees was even black and crumbling away easily. Getting any closer without being noticed would be near impossible. Despite his connection to the victims of the Concentration Camps, he found being in the country not as eerie as he had first believed it would be. He had seen a few pictures, but the Dynamic Duo were just scouting the back woods so Robin didn't feel uneasy about visiting. Maybe it was because he was child.

He didn't know.

The child was simply tired of analyzing the finer points of the Second World War.

Bruce had told him the first-hand experience with the scraps of the war would help him in the future.

"How?" he had asked.

And the answer he had received was, "Because if you can understand the struggle, greed and chaos that war brings today than you can help prevent it in the future."

Dick honestly didn't think he would be such an important figurehead in the future but after what he HAD seen he was sure that he didn't want anything like this to happen again. To ANY country.

Despite the leaves, despite the crackly dead wood and a steady wind to amplify sound, he never felt or heard any warning about the man some 30 yards away. He didn't hear the man's four legged companion either that made one simple leap, and sank its teeth into the back of his neck through the collar of his cape.

He couldn't breathe, the bat-noculars fell from his hands and the vines beneath him snapped. Dry cracked branches scratched at the skin on his legs and arms as he plummeted down onto the black leaves on the forest floor. There was a shot, Robin whimpered and black spots appeared before his eyes. He was passing out.

But not before he heard the man's voice:

"Ole Bo can smell the blood of a Gypsy from five miles away!"

A laugh the Joker would have been proud of and then all was strangely not black, but a hue of the ugliest yellowish brown he had ever seen.

* * *

Robin knew that when he awoke he had some drug running in his veins due to his cloudy head, but he didn't know where he was. When his vision cleared enough, he found himself back on his own two feet, staring at a stained aluminum sliding door and although he had black spots in his vision he could make out a line of sketched letters.

V-r-a-y S-l-en

The first word was simply faded away so there was no hope of figuring out what it was, but dirt and dust had covered the second. So with a hand as dizzy as his head, he reached up and swept away the grime.

Sklizeň

He kept his hand against the word and tried to steady himself given a sudden dizzy spell fell over his mind and passed just as quickly.

Sklizeň

"Come on Robin, remember your language lessons," he murmured under his breath.

Sklizeň was...not German but close... Czech he believed.

He was already well into English, Spanish and Canadian French-learning the languages closest to home.

Sklizeň

He wasn't officially learning that language, but he had taken a glance over a few local books when they had arrived. And if his head wasn't too foggy to recall the correct information...

Sklizeň meant...harvesting.

Ah, he got it! He had probably just unconsciously followed his nose to the smell of food when he'd been too dizzy to be aware. Actually, some food might help reduce the drug's dizzying effects. If only he knew what was in him. His limbs were twitching quickly but non-violently. Maybe food would simply clear his foggy head?

So without hesitation, he reached up and pulled open the sliding metal door. The room was only lit by a simple blue light near the door where there looked to be a bag of something on a table. Maybe it was a bag of potatoes? Looked close enough. Still disoriented, Robin fell against the nearest wall and began making his way to the table.

Something smelt weird, but his mixed up senses couldn't put a name to the odour.

He reached the small table and caught soggy sight of a conviently located lightswitch on the wall behind the table. In just a few seconds, he was leaning over the table and flicking on the switch. Numerous bright white lights above flickered on and the boy stared down at the bag, suddenly confused. The bag was covered in a fading blanket of frost. It had been frozen then. No matter, it was food.

Only when he reached up to wipe away the frost, where it was very thin, did he begin to think differently. There were numerous items inside, shades of purple, brown, red, yellow and black. If these were potatoes they were pretty bad ones. Still, if it was food...

So Robin reached for the end of the bag, trying to clear his foggy mind in the process of also trying not to pass out from the dizziness. Strange, he was dizzy but not nauseous in the least. He pulled the end up and the supposed food was revealed not to be.

He suddenly felt VERY nauseous. These weren't vegetables, he was staring at numerous human lungs!

He stumbled backwards, his foot hit an hazardously abandoned pipe and he spun around. Wall to wall and all over the floor were numerous human bodies, every part of thier skin sliced open and the only things remaining inside were the very bones of the skeletons.

The boy wanted to throw up, but he had nothing in his stomach so he fell to his knees and dry heaved until he heard a familar voice.

"ROBIN! "

A black cloth was near snapped over his shoulders and the Boy Wonder opened his eyes for just a single moment to spot the black Bat symbol against grey before his mentor was lifting him into his arms, rushing out of the room and murmuring any words he could find to comfort the boy.

Oh no…he was shaking…going into shock…

* * *

Snapping out of his memories, Dick Grayson reached up and pulled the black cloth on his shoulders a bit tighter as he neared the end of the tunnel towards the Bat-Bunker. If he had only looked at those books a bit longer he would have known.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he spoke his way through the voice command very quickly and held his breath until the door closed behind him. Only to be met by a familiar and worried face.

"Master Dick?"

Alfred, his face was wearing that long look that Dick could recognize in the pitch darkness of the blackest night.

Something was wrong with Damian then. It was only with that realization that the man was hit by the memory of the night.

Batman reached up, pulled down his cowl and sighed, "Have Damian meet me in the medical lab in five minutes."

He walked away from the elderly butler, running his black gloved hand across his forehead.

"Sir, if I might be permitted to ask…What has happened?"

Letting the old Romany accent melt into his voice Dick spoke quietly, "Varhany Sklizeň."

Alfred's eyes grew slightly before they shrunk again and a neutral calm settled across his face, "Shall I see to any injuries you may have?"

Dick stopped walking away and turned around.

His still innocent blue eyes, despite growing up, spoke volumes before his lips moved, "Take Damian to the medical lab-I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes sir."

They both shared a nod and split up, Alfred bypassing the locks on the training arena they had just installed to retrieve Damian while Dick walked towards the BatComputer, the memories of a war, long gone into the past, still embedded into memory.

* * *

There were no trailing or hidden, as far as he could tell, leads in the criminal underworld for the Varhani or the Varhany. Either way, either gang; Gotham city would need its police force on their highest degree of vigilance. Dick would get the remainder of the "Bat-Clan" together and ask about double patrols and shifts. Oh, and he made a special note that in his next big appearance in high society he should make some publicity for the police force and make a generous donation to the department.

In the meantime, Wayne Enterprises was running smoothly: hiring many new people, making humble but distinguished profits, technology development was up, Gotham was entering a new energy surplus and unemployment was down. So in turn, the Wayne fortune was still growing, as was Dick's own personal finances. He had never expected to be rich, but those old purchased war bonds had really paid off after the years. Of course he had his own personal investments in Wayne Enterprises, some in Lex Corp (to keep an eye on the guy) and numerous other companies. All in all, everything was looking good for his personal life.

Crash!

"You can't keep me here!"

Expect maybe…Damian.

Dick tore his eyes away from the computer screen and started walking to where his little brother-turned-ward was holed up in their admittedly, quite high-tech medical lab. When he arrived there, the boy was up on a medical table, had his arms crossed and was glaring down at the floor while Alfred stood beside him. The elder butler had a look of his own trained on the boy, his hands clasped behind his back with a straight line of a mouth.

"Damian?"

The boy's eyes snapped up and met Dick's with a glare Bruce would have been so proud of.

Dick expected a retort or an insult, not silence or that glare falling into a simple lingering gaze that made him feel more like the boy was simply observing him. The man was able to take one step towards the boy before Alfred had turned to him and promptly walked to his side.

"The Vahani as well?" Alfred asked, his eyes aged but still blazing.

Dick's face fell in despair, "I really wish I could say no Alfred."

"I will summon the others," Alfred said, already guessing his master's plan, "I suggest you look at the boy's neck."

The elder was gone before the 'Bat' could ask, but his eyes did zero in on the boy still staring at him.

"What about your neck?" Dick asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The boy's eyes fell to the floor again, "Nothing, the guy just tried to choke me."

Before the younger could blink, his older brother/guardian was standing in front of him and all because…

He had made a mistake. A STUPID mistake! Damian choked out a gasped breath as his mentor reached out towards him. Black gloved fingertips brushed the thin skin on his neck. He knew what was coming.

Eyes closed, Damian held his breath in a quick gasp as he felt Dick's hand wrap around his throat.

"I told you to stop him before he hurt anyone."

Damian gritted his teeth, trying not to cry out and to resist the urge to reach up and attempt to pull his mentor's hand from his throat. He was the student here though. He had failed tonight and he would endure any punishment given. The punishment being a reflection of the mistake only seemed to be fair. When the boy dared to open his eyes and meet the gaze of his mentor, he had to still his body from shaking. Grayson's eyes were blazing with hatred and harmful intent.

Of course, the Boy Wonder couldn't actually recall Dick EVER punishing him-but he could tell by the look on his teacher's face that there was something dark and personal involved with this gang and his mess up was going to cause them a lot of trouble.

So, Damian was surprised when his partner's hand didn't tighten around his throat. He opened his eyes as the hand released its hold around his neck.

"What was that for?" Damian asked, half curious and half angry.

"Tell me Damian, do you know any Czech?"

The boy titled his head to the side slightly and his face narrowed in such a little-kid gesture that Dick lost his train of thought for a long moment.

"Some. Let me guess. These guys are foreign?"

"No. The Vahani are based right here in Gotham…"

"…But?"

"But their latest affiliates aren't."

"Great," Damian said with an eye roll.

His gesture was interrupted when Dick's hand was around his throat again. Eyes slightly widen, Damian frozen.

"Hey, relax. What do you think I'm going to do-choke you?"

The boy said nothing at all, his eyes trained up at his mentor. At the realization, the elder reached for a small pocket in his belt and withdrew a small mirror before handing it over to the boy. For years he had been learning the advantage of having one in the field: illusions, distractions, reflecting light, emergency rope cutter when broken, small finger-knife, shrunken…etc.

"Upper left side."

Using the mirror with a raised eye brow, Damian's jaw dropped when he noticed a distinctive cut exactly where Dick had mentioned. The only unusual thing was that it wasn't a normal cut…it looked more like a branding. So when that creep was choking him…

Oh.

"What do you know about the Vahani?" Damian asked while placing the mirror back into his mentor's outstretched hand.

Taking back the reflective plane and releasing a breath of irritation Dick spoke lowly, "Not much. Only that they've been active in Gotham for years. They never did much outside typical drug trades but I recently uncovered something that confirms that they're getting ready for something big with the Vahany."

The boy sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, "And who are the Vahany?"

"Do you know what Vahany means in Czech?"

Damian thought through his knowledge of the language, surprisingly…he couldn't remember what it meant.

"Damian?"

Blue eyes snapped up in curiosity and attentiveness almost immediately.

"It means, Organ," Dick said, turning to sit on the edge of the medical bed and stare up at the space he had just been occupying.

Young blue eyes widened slightly before narrowing in suspicion, "Didn't we JUST bust the Peddlers for stealing organs from hospitals and storage warehouses?"

"They like the organs fresh, Damian."

Dick turned to the boy and raised his hand to rest his fingertips against the branding scratch again, "You've been marked for your kidneys and heart."

The boy huffed. Great! Now even the bad guys were marking him as a piece of property! Oh well, the scratch would heal, probably wouldn't even leave a mark.

Wait a minute…

"If the Vahany are foreign… How do you know about them if they've never been in Gotham before?"

The Dark Knight smiled sadly for a moment before beginning, "It was a visit of ours shortly after the war…"

"War? What war?"

Dick smiled, humored, "Think back."

The child did and scowled when he landed on a familiar date.

"World War II?"

"Exactly. We were in Germany at the time and-"

Dick's story was interrupted when Alfred walked back into the medical area, "Sir, the remainder of your team is awaiting you at Police Headquarters."

"Right," Dick said, reaching up to pull his cowl on and rise to his feet.

"Hey, wait a minute! You didn't explain-" Damian protested, but was cut off as well.

"Alfred, make sure Damian gets to bed after his injuries are wrapped."

"Yes sir."

"GRAYSON!"

"Don't worry Master Damian. I'm certain he will return and fill you in tomorrow morning," Alfred said as he stepped forward to grab a roll of bandages from a silver medical table that he mentally noted to polish later.

When the two had returned back to the penthouse, Damian slid onto the sectional sofa with a copy of Frankenstein and waited.

Some distance behind the chair, Alfred frowned. The scene was too familiar to the aging man and he was suddenly all too aware of his old bones and the lack of elasticity in his skin.

* * *

When Dick stumbled in from his "family" meeting, already hating his 9:00am breakfast meeting that Lucius was metaphorically threatening him with a firing squad to attend in four hours, he expected to return to a sleeping penthouse. The mid floors of Wayne tower were almost always lit up because of over-night workers but the top of Wayne tower had been dark for a good year now since it now housed inhabitants.

He had nothing against the Manor, he had grown up there, but it was still overwhelming to the new Dark Knight. He had never NEEDED that much space-or maybe it was just his gypsy blood; the blood of the traveler was always accustomed to change. So, he was surprised when he stepped out of the elevator and was immediately handed a cup of hot chocolate. Blue eyes flashed up to meet those of Alfred's.

"Alfred? Hm, I thought you'd be in bed."

Alfred sighed sadly, "Forgive me sir; sleep will not come easily to me while my mind is preoccupied by the thoughts of the Vahani back in Gotham."

Dick took a tentative sip of the warm drink, judged it to be a tolerable temperature, and then drank long and slow to gather his thoughts before speaking, "Everyone's on a schedule for the next five weeks."

Alfred's already present frown fell further, "It will take that long to locate them?"

"Given the Vahany will be here as well-yes. They've grown since the war."

A silence stretched between the two, whereupon the younger man took the advantage to take another long drink. He would need a lot of coffee to get through tomorrow-well TODAY actually.

"I believe I could make some progress on the laundry," Alfred said, excusing himself to finish the chore that probably didn't even need to be done.

"By the way, as history would always seem to repeat itself, there's a little boy waiting up tonight."

"I thought Damian went to bed?"

"It's a sad stubbornness that runs in the family, sir."

* * *

"You're supposed to be in bed you know?"

Damian Wayne's blue eyes snapped open at the sound of his guardian's voice but he ensured that he simply turned his head upwards as the man circled around the new sectional they had just bought for the main room to sit next to him.

The strange thing though-was that Damian just stared until Dick raised an eyebrow and prompted with a single word, "Frankenstein?"

The boy tossed the book down onto the cushion beside him, "Not important. What I need to know is what is going on and what we're going to do about it."

The boy stared back at him with his father's eyes, slightly narrowed into some kind of glare that wasn't exactly mean or cruel but prodding nonetheless.

"It's a long story Damian-"

"One you WILL tell me," the boy spat before crossing his arms across his chest in a perfect display of child-like defiance that made the elder blink a few times.

A long drawn out sigh followed, but then Dick began speaking softly yet clearly, "We had been visiting one of Bruce's past friends. The war had kept him in Germany so your father was looking forward to seeing him. I had felt uneasy about the trip at first, but I knew that going with Bruce was better than just sitting back here in Gotham worrying about him…"

* * *

The tale of the entire trip had taken about two hours, give or take ten minutes, to converse to Damian. So, they both found themselves staring down at the book of, "Frankenstein" that Damian had knocked onto the floor around twenty minutes into the tale. The boy now had a cup of hot chocolate in his own hands.

"Do you honestly believe that you could stop a World War?"

Dick frowned, "There's no fair way to answer that."

"True," Damian muttered before switching his gaze from his book to his almost finished drink and speaking again, "I know you have a meeting in three hours and the sun is already beginning to rise."

"Yeah…so?"

"You should be sleeping."

"YOU should have been in bed hours ago."

Even to the proverbial 'naked' ear it appeared that the dusk, evening, night and dawn were particularly sensitive moments for the 'bats'-given the lines of their words and actions were being tripped with the most sincere and careful dedication by one another.

Dick Grayson finally sighed, got to his feet and turned to his latest responsibility, "Come on, off to bed."

They left their cups of hot chocolate on the coffee table before walking off to their respective bedrooms. Coming upon Damian's first though-the boy turned back to his mentor with a curious blue-eyed glance.

"Grayson-you can't hide the truth. You found something else in that room."


End file.
